Bailey’s mouth opened in surprise as Tristian nodded, not seeming entirely surprised.
“I will be leading the empire into war, and once we return, I will take the throne,” I said as steadily as possible, trying to infuse confidence into my tone. There was no other option. “We all know I have no experience in doing any of this, so I will need as much help as possible. Which is why I’m here.”
Tristan cocked his head at me, curiosity bringing some life back to his eyes.
“I need someone I can trust. Someone with integrity. Someone I can confide in.” I saw both of their gazes dart to my men behind me, and I bit back a small smile. I shook my head slightly before continuing, “Most important of all, though, is someone who will tell me exactly what their opinion is on a situation, even when it may hurt me. Even if it may mean I’m in danger in some way. Whatever it is, I need someone who will give me the blunt and honest truth."
Bailey’s eyes darted to Tristan as a soft smile pulled the corners of her lips up.
“Which is where you come in Tristian,” I stated, holding his gaze. “I want you as my right hand, as Elijah was for Myrin. You share the same dream, the same mission as myself—we want this empire to remain a symbol of freedom. More than that, we each want to release those stuck under Malakai’s oppressive rule. I need help doing that. I need someone by my side who is willing to uphold those standards with me.”
Tristian’s brow was furrowed as he sighed and clasped his hands together. He leaned forward as he admitted, “I have no experience with the politics associated with the Tridian Empire—”
“Neither do I,” I interrupted, raising my brows as I emphatically continued, “but that also means you don’t have a bias on how you think this empire should operate. You can help me ensure it runs the best way possible for its people. And it helps that we will have several people around us thatdohave experience in the Tridian Empire.”
Bailey spoke up, rubbing his back in a show of support, “You would be an amazing advisor, honey.”
He smiled at his wife softly before looking back at me with a serious expression. “I would be honored to help, Kyella. As long as you’re sure I’m the right person for the job. If it doesn’t work out, please do not think I will be offended if you feel like you need to find someone else.”
“You are the right person,” I assured him, but I appreciated his consideration.
“Our family will help anyway we can,” Bailey said, strength infusing her voice. I nodded at the woman, appreciation for her warming my heart. “I know I won’t be with any of you on the battlefield, but I’m more than willing to help here in any way possible. The families staying behind will no doubt have the same fear as I do, and I’d like to help ease those fears as much as possible.”
A thought had been in the back of my mind of who would help uphold those standards while we were gone, and hearing her say that made it clear.
“Then that is what you will do.” I reached over and squeezed her hand, making a mental note to bring her further into the process. She was the exact type of person I wanted help from. Someone with compassion and strength infused in every element of their personality.
Standing up, I looked at all of them and nodded. “We are going to win this war, not only for Myrin—but to unite the two lands as they should have always been, under peace and justice.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Kyella
Myrin had been wrong about one thing: that the knowledge of her identity would somehow hurt or break the trust and love the people of the Tridian Empire had for her. And while I was sure her initial concern was well founded—especially considering those bastard lords I had to deal with earlier—it had never been so clear to me just how much she was loved as a leader, no matter her identity.
By this time the news of her death, and her identity, had likely reached most parts of the empire. The front courtyard of the castle, where new recruits had gathered recently to go to war, was filled to the brim with citizens that had arrived for Myrin’s vigil that night. Hundreds, if not over a thousand people gathered, some willing to stand outside of the castle gates when the courtyard filled completely, to honor the life Myrin had lived. To show their respect for the incredible Empress she had been for them.
We stood on a constructed platform near the castle entrance overlooking the courtyard as the gentle night-time wind filled the space with the scent of the sea. My dark dress shifted against my frame, caressing my legs and making me shiver as goosebumps raised all over my body. I assumed the platform was typically utilized to give speeches to the citizens of the Tridian Empire—just like the one I would be giving soon—but I had no doubt it had never been used by Myrin.
I could see citizens staring up at us in curiosity and confusion as Elijah rubbed my back gently. Dakath and Kolvar stood slightly behind us, talking in low tones. The citizens likely wondered who the hell I was. It was fair, but the idea that they wouldn’t accept me simply because I was an outsider made my stomach turn. Tristian and Bailey were with us as well, with Rina standing between them, though they stood further back. Barnabus circled above the balcony before landing on the side railing of the platform.
While I had never been to a vigil before and wasn’t entirely sure what it included, it was clear there was some type of custom involved. Each person who arrived carried a candle, though they arrayed in sizes and colors. When I’d asked my men what the ceremony entailed before coming here, they told me they wanted me to see it with my own eyes, that it was hard to describe the beauty that could exist in a shared moment of grief.
Elijah had brought six white and gold candles, and they rested on a small table nearby. The full moon hung heavily in the sky, casting a gentle light on the scene. It felt surreal, watching the teeming crowd looking toward the castle for guidance in their time of mourning.
Suddenly, as if on an unspoken cue, Elijah stepped forward and spoke clearly. “We are gathered here today to honor our fallen Empress. Hold your candles as we pay tribute by sharing the flame.”
A hush fell over the crowd, and I watched with interest as the citizens listened to him with rapt attention. He walked toward the small table that held our candles, turning to pass one to each of us. I took mine last, inhaling a shaky breath as Elijah used a match to light his own. My hands trembled as he turned, using the flame from his candle to light the wick on each of ours.
I noticed briefly that the others closed their eyes after their candles were lit. I nearly did the same, but Elijah grabbed my attention by speaking softly. “Take your candle to the stairs on the right side of the platform and light the flame of the person waiting there, and I will do the same on the left.”
Following his directive, I approached a woman whose eyes filled with tears as she lifted her candle, waiting for me to light the flame of mourning. She softly thanked me before turning to walk down the steps. I watched as she neared the far side of the crowd and offered her flame to a man there, which started a line of people sharing their flames with one another. I watched in awe at the scene unfolding before me. I walked back toward my men and stood next to Dakath, watching the crowd from above.
When he spoke against the shell of my ear, I leaned further against him. “It’s a tradition to come to the vigil with a candle to honor the fallen. The purpose is to feel a sense of community as we share the flame and our grief. After all of the candles have been lit, each person says their own goodbye. The flame is representative of Myrin’s spirit. The candles remain lit until the first person who lit their flame, in this case Elijah, blows theirs out, indicating that everyone gathered was able to light their candle, stand together as a community, and share their grief, if only for a moment.”
“That’s beautiful,” I said, my voice choking with emotion.
It was a stunning and awe-inspiring way to show unity and compassion in the face of such stark grief. Looking down at my own candle, I closed my eyes and offered a small goodbye.
